


New Year's Resolution

by songforeverystory



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, New Year, Post Season 2, at all, soft, this was going to be smut and then it wasn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 20:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songforeverystory/pseuds/songforeverystory
Summary: Eve and Villanelle try out the domestic thing and it doesn't work.Or does it?
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 15
Kudos: 237





	New Year's Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends. I can't figure out the multi-chapter fic at the minute, but I threw this little thing together in a day! 
> 
> The cottage is a real one on Airbnb and it's super cute, check it out!
> 
> Enjoy!

If anything good had come from Rome, it was that she had been forced to come to terms with herself.

She put it down to serendipity that the fog had somewhat cleared after Rome, which had allowed her to see herself properly for the first time, her whole self and everything that she was capable of.

For a few weeks she had grappled with Raymond’s death, much like she had grappled with the axe that had seen him twitching and bleeding out on the floor. She accepted it, accepted that she had done it and realised that she would do it again if push came to shove.

It was a part of her, but it wasn’t the _only _part of her.

The only way that she could describe it was that it felt like the most satisfying sigh of relief after a huge, gasping breath. The kind of breath that one might take after almost drowning.

And she had almost drowned.

Disassociated from the intelligence services and jobless, she had found the time to invest in and nurture old friendships that she had neglected because of her obsession with her work, and with Villanelle in particular.

She and Elena were back to being as thick as thieves.

She sometimes had dinner with Keiko, Bill’s wife.

Both had been there with open arms during her recovery. Keiko had naïvely hailed her a hero for her work and had the utmost respect for her for confronting Bill’s killer.

She had felt almost guilty for leaving out most of the facts.

The most important facts.

The fact that she had been prepared to leave with Villanelle before things had taken a turn.

She had felt guilty until she perfected the art of pretending and realised that she wasn’t lying for herself anymore, but for everyone else.

Elena, wiser to what had happened seemed to accept Eve’s darker side easily despite not knowing the magnitude of it. She called her ‘badass’ for killing someone and suggested that she take MI6 to an employment tribunal for unfair dismissal.

Eve had reminded her that it had been her decision not to return with Carolyn, and Elena had shrugged.

All she knew was that she didn’t want that life anymore. It was like a dream realised, and the reality of it hadn’t been as good as she imagined it would be in her head.

She’d be content not to work ever again she thought.

It had taken mere weeks for Villanelle to show up on her doorstep, rosy-cheeked, sheepish, sorry.

She had regarded Eve curiously with one raised eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching up. _“You look well” _she had said, and Eve had closed the door on her.

It had irked her for obvious reasons. She didn’t expect to see Villanelle again, let alone receive an apology from her, realising that it was likely below Villanelle to offer one anyway, but she didn’t need her smug comments either.

Weeks passed then with daily visits from the woman, each one underpinned by a new emotion or feeling that she hadn’t observed on her before. Sadness, anger (which she had seen her fair share of), hurt, concern, despair.

It had taken weeks of implied apologies and effort on Villanelle’s part before she had been invited inside. Even when Eve had finally given in and stood aside to let her in, it had been under the pretence of needing help to remove her stitches.

She had half-heartedly explained that she did not yet possess the strength and energy required to leave the house.

The smug look on Villanelle’s face had returned for a nanosecond before she bit down into her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth.

_“But weren’t you at the pub with Elena this afternoon? You know you’re not supposed to drink whilst taking antibiotics”._

Okay, maybe it was an alcohol-induced stupor that had seen Eve accept the woman into her home, but Villanelle had surely capitalised on it, which made her a shitty person still.

Eve had pursed her lips, lifted her shirt just enough to expose her war wound, as Elena called it, and looked expectantly at Villanelle.

The woman looked down in horror and took a step closer, Eve following suit by taking a step back until she was leaning up against the countertop.

_“Oh,” _the young woman had said, Eve watching on as Villanelle gulped and mopped her brow with her forearm.

_“Yes, you weren’t so kind to leave me a nice, neat scar”_ Eve had glared at her, lips pursed. She too looked down at the jagged edges of the hole where the bullet had torn through her skin, and at the lines that had been cut at either side of it, large enough to get it out of her again in theatre.

Villanelle hadn’t offered up excuses or apologies, instead sitting her down and carefully removing each stitch one by one.

It felt like she hadn’t really left since then, and that was months ago.

At first she would stop by every day, usually to make dinner and to clean up and then she would head out into the night, only to return the next night.

Sometimes, Eve would be out with Elena or Keiko and would arrive home to find Villanelle waiting on her doorstep. The woman would always shrug if Eve asked if she had been waiting long.

It happened organically when one night, Villanelle had fallen asleep beside her on the couch whilst they watched Friday Night Dinner.

Villanelle hadn’t said anything when Eve had ushered her upstairs to sleep in the second bedroom. It was unspoken, but it seemed to have been taken over by her since then.

She stayed occasionally, and then some nights, and then most, and then she was there unless she was away working.

They seldom spoke about it, but Eve had derived from the tidbits of information that had been offered to her that Villanelle was doing some kind of subcontract murder-for-hire stuff.

This time, Eve was happy enough to not know about it.

She often worried though, when Villanelle disappeared wordlessly for days at a time and over dinner one night they had, had a frank conversation about expectations.

The long and short of it was that there weren’t any, only that Eve wanted to know when she’d be gone and when she might be back.

She hadn’t said “so that I don’t worry”, but it had been implied, and it had caused a huge, beaming smile to spread across Villanelle’s face.

-

Days later, Villanelle strolled through to the living room with a packed bag and smiled. “I have made dinner for you, I will be gone for 3 days”. It wasn’t quite what Eve had imagined, but it was good enough and she pulled herself up from the couch awkwardly and nodded, smiling at her.

“Okay”.

Villanelle was just as awkward about the whole thing and stared her out until the eye contact became unbearable.

“Okay then” she mumbled, before practically catapulting herself into Eve, engulfing her in a huge hug and squeezing tight.

It was awkward, Eve thought. They rarely touched one another, and when they did it was usually accidental and the both of them would jump away from it.

Eve tentatively wrapped an arm around Villanelle in return, patted her back and sighed. Face pressed against the woman’s neck, she took a deep breath in, inhaling her. Her smell, as distinctive as ever, had somehow mixed with her own as a result of their shared space, and she couldn’t help but smile at it. Villanelle held her tighter in response.

When they pulled back, both of them looked blankly at one another for a moment before Villanelle nodded and turned on her heel, heading out towards the front door.

“Villanelle?” Eve called after her.

“Mhm?” the woman replied, Eve hearing the front door open a crack.

Eve followed her out into the hallway and smiled softly at her “Stay safe”.

Villanelle smiled back at her and nodded, before disappearing out into the night.

-

Three days later, laid across the couch with her laptop resting on her stomach, the doorbell rang.

It was early evening but dark out already and when she pulled herself up from the couch to see to it, she barely managed to make out Villanelle’s silhouette on the other side.

Pulling the door open, she shook her head. “You don’t really have to knock, I guess you practically live here these days” Eve had reminded her, stepping aside to allow Villanelle inside.

The young woman turned to look at her, shrugging. It wasn’t unlike her to return with a bit of a scrape, but the cut across her nose and the swollen tip of it was more than Eve was used to.

She gaped for a moment, hummed in thought and then asked. “Is it broken?”

Villanelle laughed “I think so”. She walked through to the living room, shrugged off her jacket and her scarf, pulled her hair away from its ponytail. “I brought takeout, it’s late and I’m tired” she admitted.

Eve raised her eyebrows as she observed Villanelle pottering around the space as if it was her own, making quick work of plating up two dinners of burgers and fries and pouring out two glasses of wine.

“You don’t have to provide food every day, you know… I can cook sometimes” Eve offered.

Villanelle scrunched up her nose, grimaced, sitting down at the dinner table and taking a huge bite of her burger. “No… it’s okay” she smirked.

Eve gasped, blushed and sat down opposite her. “I really am not that bad, you know,” she said, lifting her burger up to her lips, looking at Villanelle carefully. “Are you okay?”.

Villanelle sighed loudly, hesitantly nodded and admitted: “I’m glad to be home”.

Eve didn’t really know what to think about that. It wasn’t a conversation that they had got around to having yet, about formalising their current arrangement, or even really acknowledging that it existed, but she looked to Villanelle and smiled nevertheless.

After dinner, they migrated to the couch, Eve assuming her previous position and not really thinking much about it when she lifted her legs for Villanelle to sit down beside her. She was surprised though when Villanelle lifted her legs so that they were rested across her lap.

It was intimate and such casual intimacy was something she hadn’t had in a long time.

“Um-“ she started, looking over at Villanelle who slowly leaned towards her.

“What are you looking at?” Villanelle interrupted, looking over at her laptop.

“I’m thinking of going away for Christmas” Eve explained, forgetting about their positioning, flicking through several Airbnb’s that she had been looking at.

“Oh” Villanelle nodded. “Where is that?” she inquired, tilting her head to the side as she looked at the properties.

“Lake Windermere, in the Lake District… I visited the Lake District years ago, it’s beautiful” Eve told her with a smile.

Villanelle looked towards her awkwardly “Oh… okay,” she nodded, turning her attention back to the television.

“What?” Eve asked curiously.

Villanelle looked towards her and shook her head. “Oh, nothing”.

Eve rolled her eyes. “What is it, Villanelle?”

Villanelle shrugged “I just thought that you might be here for Christmas”.

“I don’t feel like it, I want to get away, see nice things”.

Villanelle pursed her lips. “Am I not a ‘nice thing’?”.

“Villanelle, you can come if you want to” Eve laughed, shaking her head, ignoring the way that she heart had started to speed up.

Villanelle frowned “Oh no, I wouldn’t want to _intrude”. _

Eve shook her head, reached out and stroked Villanelle’s hair away from her face. “Stop behaving like a petulant child and help me choose somewhere for us to stay, will you?”.

Villanelle softened at that, scooted closer to her and called the shots.

-

They had argued over Villanelle needing to work on the days leading up to Christmas.

Villanelle had assured her that she would be back on the 23rd so that they could make the journey to the Lake District on Christmas Eve.

They had plans to hire a car and share the drive up, not trusting public transport over the festive period.

Eve had been alone for six days and she was ready to go. She had packed, wrapped the gift that she had got for Villanelle and paced in anticipation of her arrival. She cooked dinner, drank wine and entertained the idea that Villanelle might not actually show when it approached 11 pm.

She had fallen asleep on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and had awoken at 7 am when her alarm went off.

They really didn’t have any means of contacting one another, which amused her now that she realised that she practically lived with someone and didn’t even have her phone number. But really, they spent so much time together that they hadn’t ever needed to call one another and couldn’t anyway when Villanelle was away working.

She wished that she could now so that she could berate her and shout at her and remind her that she _knew _it was only a matter of time before Villanelle would let her down.

Villanelle had literally ruined Christmas.

She packed up the car and locked up the house and drove up to Elterwater cottage alone.

It was beautiful, a mix of both of their tastes.

They hadn’t even discussed the fact that the cosy cottage only had one bedroom, but she imagined what it might have felt like to have Villanelle laying beside her when she fell asleep on Christmas Eve. Instead, she laid on her side and watched the snow falling outside.

She thought maybe that Villanelle had been waylaid and that she would show up on Christmas Day bearing gifts and stories and softness.

She wanted it, she realised. She wanted to just be normal with Villanelle for a couple of days.

She wanted intimacy and tenderness and the butterflies that flew around in her stomach when she was around Villanelle.

She often mistook it for fear, for anxiety, but she knew now that they were apart, and she was anticipating such a feeling that it was undoubtedly due to her peculiar attraction to Villanelle.

It dulled over the passing days when she ate Christmas dinner alone and watched the Queen’s speech on television alone and drove home alone and went about her days alone.

New Year’s Eve was approaching, and she was concerned.

It seemed so opposite to the Villanelle that had been trying to please her for months.

She knew that’s what had been happening, and it had been working.

They hadn’t been due to spend New Year’s together. She had made prior arrangements with Elena to drink their body weight in alcohol and watch the fireworks on her TV in front of the fire.

She honoured them, even though she wasn’t feeling like it.

She had made a bet with herself that it would take no more than an hour for Elena to bring up Villanelle and was surprised when it had taken close to two, several drinks in.

“Stop moping, Eve”.

Eve sighed and shook her head. “I am not moping”.

“Yes, you are” Elena argued, crawled over to her from the other end of the couch and plopped down half on top of her. “I really don’t believe that her pussy is _that _good that you have to act all sad that she’s not been around”.

Eve laughed then and almost spat out her drink. “I wouldn’t know”.

Elena looked at her in disbelief. “Yeah, yeah, Eve… you’ve been living together for _months, _I know that you’re shagging”.

Eve raised her eyebrows, took the bottle of vodka from the woman and swigged straight from it.

Villanelle would be proud.

“Really, we haven’t” Eve insisted. “We don’t even live together, she just… stays. We haven’t spoken about it” she admitted with a shrug.

Elena regarded her, eyes narrowed as if she was trying to detect a lie. They softened in realisation and the woman reached to twirl one of Eve’s curls around her finger. “You’re worried about her, you care about her, don’t you?”.

Eve shrugged. “I’m not worried, she can take care of herself”.

Elena shook her head. “Why can’t you just be honest with yourself? You want to fuck the assassin, there’s no shame in it”.

Elena slid out of her lap and reached for another bottle of something.

Eve took another drink, almost choking on it, grimacing at the taste. “Except there is,” she said, gesturing for Elena to hand over her bottle. “Fuck, I don’t even like vodka,” she said, switching out the bottles.

“You need to talk to her” Elena warned her, eyebrows raised, eyes glazed over slightly. “And then you need to fuck her, get it out of your system”.

Eve shook her head. “It’s so complicated. I’m done talking, I’ve had enough”.

Elena cheered, jumping up from the couch and dancing around to the music playing from the TV, vodka in hand. “Yesssssss Eve, that’s my girl”.

Eve laughed.

“Forget her, forget the whole thing. We should go out and find you someone else to play with then” Elena insisted, eyes widening at her bright idea.

Eve groaned. “Not tonight, or anytime soon… but eventually” she agreed.

“No, you need to need to grab the horns by the bull,” Elena said, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “You know what I mean, you need to put yourself out there” the woman practically screamed. “We’re both fucking fit and fucking single, it’s tragic” she shook her head. “Maybe we should fuck, how would you feel about that?” Elena asked, barely taking a breath.

Eve laughed at her and shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks”.

Elena hummed, shrugging. “Yes, because I am not Villanelle”.

Eve rolled her eyes. “No, listen. I’m making it my New Year’s resolution. Leave the past in the past, Villanelle included”.

Elena gaped at her, bounced back onto the couch. “Really? _Really, Eve? _You can’t”.

Eve nodded at her. “I can. Watch me”.

-

She had been scouring BBC Good Food and had decided to attempt Coq au vin for dinner. She followed the recipe meticulously and figured that absolutely nothing could go wrong in that case. She’d cooked the shallots and the bacon and then the chicken and then the garlic, then added in the brandy and red wine and stirred and stirred and stirred.

It was simmering away, and she hovered over it, checking the recipe again and again, preparing the mashed potato that would accompany it.

She had texted Elena once she had realised that she had cooked far too much and invited her to join her but was yet to hear back from her when the doorbell rang.

She smirked, wondering how the woman had managed to cross the city in twenty minutes, and all for Coq au vin. As far as everyone who had ever known her was concerned, her cooking was nothing to write home about.

Pouring a second glass of wine, she lifted them and headed towards the front door. “Free food and free wine really had you running across the city?” she laughed, swinging open the door and expecting to see Elena there, eagerly awaiting a glass of wine.

Except it wasn’t Elena.

It was the 6th of January, and Villanelle had finally decided to show her face.

“No,” she said, putting the second glass of wine down on the table beside the door. “No, I’m not doing this,” she said, draining her glass as she went to close the door with her now free hand.

Villanelle’s foot got in the way and they struggled for a moment. “Villanelle, no”.

“Let me explain. I am sorry, I am so sorry” Villanelle exclaimed, pushing her way into the house. “I know you are very angry, I am also very angry, I am sorry Eve” she insisted.

Eve shook her head and gestured for her to leave. “Get out of my house, Villanelle”.

The woman shook her head furiously. “Eve, I am not going anywhere,” she told her, slamming the door closed and walking into the house. “You are cooking,” she said, not bothering to mask her surprise.

“Yes, I don’t need you Villanelle,” she said, gesturing to the bags that no doubt contained food that the woman had planned to cook for them.

“I know,” Villanelle said, softer now. “I know you don’t need me, I am sorry that I disappointed you, that I ruined our Christmas”.

Eve scoffed “Ruined it? You didn’t ruin it, I had a lovely time”.

Villanelle’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Then why are you so angry?”.

Eve laughed, full belly laughed and topped up her wine glass. “I’m angry at myself because I should have known that you would disappoint me”.

Villanelle sighed, infuriated. “I got caught up in some stuff Eve and I could not get out of it. I was scared for my life, really scared for the first time”.

Eve shook her head. “I don’t care, out!”.

Villanelle growled, actually stomped her foot and balled her hands into fists. “No, no, you are not listening. Eve, I am sorry… I am sorry”.

Eve gave up, threw her hands into the air and went to tend to her dinner.

Villanelle put down her bags and trailed behind her. “I am sorry, Eve… I am really sorry. I will make it up to you”.

Arms wrapped around her from behind, Villanelle’s chin coming to rest on her shoulder. She tried to shrug her off, but Villanelle only held her tighter.

“Villanelle”. Eve warned, trying her best to ignore her now.

“I am going to make it up to you, we can do Christmas again, please… I missed you” Villanelle said, kissing her shoulder.

Eve groaned “Villanelle, back off”.

Villanelle held her tighter again and nuzzled into her. “No” she protested, and it was then that Eve realised that she was crying. Her tears soaked through her t-shirt and Villanelle pressed her face against her.

Eve turned around, sighed when Villanelle wouldn’t detach herself from her, wrapping her arms around her again and nuzzling her face into her neck. “I am sorry, Eve. I really wanted to be with you” she said through choked sobs.

Eve was overcome with emotion suddenly too, biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying. “You let me down, Villanelle”.

“I know” Villanelle cried, pulling back a little to look at her, stroking her hair and her face and her neck. “I am sorry, I will not again” she assured her.

Eve sighed. “I can’t do it, whatever it is that we’re doing”.

Villanelle groaned and shook her head. “No, Eve… yes, we can do it. We can do it, please… it will be perfect, I promise”.

Eve reached for her cheek, stroked it, realised how tired she looked. “No, V… I made a New Year’s resolution, I have to break free from it all, from you”.

Villanelle huffed. “That is so stupid, Eve. You want me, I want you”.

Eve sighed, laughed at her, shaking her head still. “I bet Elena, and you scared me, I can’t be scared for the rest of my life, V”.

Villanelle leaned closer, nuzzled her nose against Eve’s, held her neck and her cheek. “Stop being scared then” she pleaded.

She was so close that her breath ghosted over Eve’s lips.

Eve sighed, held her elbow and her waist, tried to pull back a little to look at her properly.

Villanelle looked at her for a second, raised her eyebrows, questioning. Eve didn’t know, she didn’t know. She couldn’t think with Villanelle so close, the butterflies she had often mistaken for fear fluttering around in her stomach.

She couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say.

Before she could find words that articulated how she was feeling, everything that was going on in her busy brain, she felt the press of soft lips against her own. Eve’s eyes fell shut and she gasped against Villanelle’s lips. At some point, she wondered whether she had stopped breathing altogether, rooted in place for a moment before hesitantly pulling back to look at her.

Villanelle looked scared, she realised, the young woman’s eyes searching her own, trying to figure out what she was thinking. She gave her a second, nuzzling her nose up against Eve’s again and connecting their lips once more.

It was firmer this time, more insistent, the woman trying to elicit certain responses from Eve. It happened again and again and again until Eve found it in herself to kiss back, drawing Villanelle closer and tugging gently on her lower lip.

Villanelle moaned into it, sobbed into it and Eve pulled back to shush her. Connecting their lips once more, she shushed her more effectively by pressing their tongues against one another. It was deeper now, not as slow. It was all the months and years of frustration and longing and sexual tension coming to the surface, overflowing, bursting.

She laughed against it, pulled her closer. “You’re such a bitch” she groaned.

Villanelle pulled back to look at her curiously.

“I said I was leaving you in 2019. You have made me ruin my New Year’s resolution”.

Villanelle rolled her eyes, kissed her again. “We are going to do Christmas again, you can think of a more realistic goal for the New Year”.

Eve smiled, kissed her again and nodded.

They stood in the kitchen, kissing one another until she heard the sizzling of the pan and registered that something was probably, definitely burning.

She pulled away and detangled herself from Villanelle quickly, turning off the stove and flipping over the chicken. The wine had reduced so much that it had disappeared, the chicken now chargrilled, burned beyond saving.

She groaned. “Dinner is ruined,” she said, looking behind her at Villanelle.

The woman wore a dopey grin on her face and shrugged, reaching for her again. She reached around, hoisted Eve up into her arms and made for the stairs.

“I’m not hungry anyway”.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat on twitter - @song4everystory


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